


Fight or Flight

by the_wildcard



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: M/M, and has a fear of elevators, moss is gay and angsty as shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wildcard/pseuds/the_wildcard
Summary: When Roy skips work, Moss gets the blues. They were supposed to have a movie night after work.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what this is tbh. I wrote it bc there isnt enough IT crowd fic, and a lot of it is too straight for my gay heart to handle. This is for everyone who feels the same way i do

Let it be clearly stated that Maurice Moss has not had a particularly easy life. 

Including his overbearing mother, the constant teasing and bullying that happened daily in his younger years (occasionally even in present day), the expensive college and the tremendous amount of work that came along with it. The fact that he can't leave the office basement without making sure the items on his desk are properly and perfectly organized. How he can't put headphones, or computer wires down until they're completely untangled. 

Being autistic, a closeted gay, and just a flat out nerd, and everything that comes with it. 

Some people can hide who they are, but Moss can't because everything he is, it seems, is plastered across his face. 

But even despite all of that, nothing can compare to the giant that he finds himself standing next to every day. The slouched over man-child with a bad attitude and even worse hygiene. 

They met on the first day of college, and Moss hadn't been able to bring himself to get to know anyone else. It wouldnt be worth it, anyway. Roy's the only person Moss can watch movies with without feeling uncomfortable. Hes the only person Moss can lie next to in a bed and not want to roll down in the crack, between the bed and the wall.

"Moss." He's shaken by a loud snapping hand in front of his face. "What Jen? You've just interrupted a pretty important train of thought. If I may be so bold, I'm feeling very peeved off today." Moss pauses. "Please excuse my language."

His friend shrugs and leans back against the basements couch. 

"Sorry Moss. Since Roys' out sick, you have to make the house calls. Sandra from the third floor is having computer troubles again." Moss stands up calmly, besides his balled fists. "But she's always having trouble with her computer, Jen. She just needs to reconnect the Internet, I'm telling you."

Jen grabs Moss by his scrawny shoulders and turns him around manually to guide him out of the door. Once he's out, she unceremoniously slams the basement door behind him, effectively locking him out. 

 

On his way to the third floor, Moss takes the stairs. Partly to give him more time to think, but also because the elevator has started acquiring faults, such as stopping and leaving the occupants stranded inside for hours. It makes Moss anxious to think about. 

"Curious," he says outloud. His nasally voice echoes down the hall. Roy never calls in sick when he really does feel under the weather, because he always sleeps in when he has a cold. Moss knows he only calls in when hes intentionally bunking off, like they did together once. Moss heard Jen get his call this morning. That must mean he's skipping work, and abandoning Moss in the process. 

He's angry at himself for being excited this morning, for looking forward to seeing Roy. You should never rely on someone else to keep you happy, that's a simple flipping fact that Moss somehow missed. 

 

Moss doesn't say a word to Sandra in Sales the entire time he spends fixing her computer. The entire twelve seconds. 

 

As Moss is walking to work the next day, he turns around to watch a family of ducks walk by, outside of Reynholm Industries. Unfortunately, turning allows him to see Roy, quickly approaching. Perhaps the Gods are on Moss' team today, because Roy hasnt seemed to notice him yet. 

Moss turns around and begins to walk faster than he normally would have, clutching his backpack straps tighter than before. 

He weaves his way through the lobby, only running into three people, which is less than he usually does.  
Approaching the elevator he thinks 'will i dare? Am i desperate enough to get away from Roy that I'll ride in the Dreaded Elevator?' But he quickly comes to his conclusion when he hears his name being called from the entrance of the building. Target Spotted. 

"Moss! Hey!" He doesn't turn around, and instead steps onto the half full elevator. The doors close long before Roy could make it to them, and Moss silently celebrates, while trying his best not to touch any of the people he's standing next to and doing his best to not vomit up his breakfast.

 

"Good morning, Moss." Jen practically sings as he steps into their office. He lowers himself into his chair, and adjust the items on his desk. 

"You sound awfully chipper this morning, Jen."

She sighs theatrically and clutches her clipboard closer to her chest. "Yes well. I did meet a guy last night." 

Moss sighs inwardly, trying not to display how desperately he didn't want to talk to Jen about her Romance Life right now. Maybe its because his is in complete shambles, somehow even more devastating than it usual is. Or perhaps it's because Jen always has a new guy to flaunt about, and Moss never particularly wants to hear it. 

Maybe it's a blessing that Roy walks in, because Jen's attention on Moss is immediately compromised. But he changes his mind when Roy stops in front of his desk. 

"Hey didn't you hear me earlier? I was calling your name." But Moss is now in full Robot Mode, meaning he doesnt speak, or show any indication that he's listening to anyone. He just does what hes supposed to, and tries to ignore any signs of human interaction, something he does quite a lot.

He's already logged onto his work computer, and now animatronically removes his backpack from his shoulders to get his personal laptop out. As he places his laptop next to his work computer, Roy watches him all the while.

The look on his face resembles a mother who's disappointed in her child. Moss is sure that Roy means for it to be intimidating. Jokes on him! Moss gets that look all the ruddy time. 

"Not talking, huh." By then, Jen had already gotten bored of not being hounded about her new boy toy, and has retreated back into her office. Roy trudges to his desk and slumps down into his chair. "Well I can ignore you, too, Moss. Watch." 

But Moss doesn't watch. He does his best to tune Roy out all morning, even when he groans and whines about not wanting to work every ten minutes. He keeps his eyes glued to his beloved screens when Jen finally comes out of her office to talk about her new man. He's apparently 'the big one'. Moss doubts it. 

By lunch time, he's almost forgotten why hes angry at Roy, but then remembers. He wants to shut down again, but Roy is in front of his desk asking for them to get lunch together. 

Moss is still peeved, but he responds anyway. "My mother packed my lunch for today." Roy rolls his eyes. "Okay come on, we can eat outside. If I have to listen to Jen describe Troys eyes one more time, I think I'll blow my brains out." Moss lets himself smile at that.  
"Okay, fine." He stands up, and grabs his backpack, that's been resting on the floor next to his desk. 

 

They walk to the park that's only a few blocks away from Reynholm Industries. Moss remembers the day he finally defeated those teenage bullies, which he regards as a high point in his life. It feels so long ago now.

As Moss pulls out his lunch box, he feels his hands itching to also take out one of his many game consoles. They're weighing down his backpack and are heavy on his shoulders. And what better to do on a sunny day like this than to play video games? 

Roy is watching him with an expression that Moss can't read. He raises his hand to his own face to see if there's food or something of the like on it. There's nothing as far as he can tell. 

"Come on, Moss. Why are you angry with me?"

Moss doesnt answer. Instead he removes the thermos from his lunchbox, and unscrews the lid. He feels the warm steam emitting from his green tea and takes a tentative sip. It could do with more sugar.

Roy clenches his fist, Moss sees from the corner of his eyes. That could be due to frustration, annoyance, or anger. Moss isn't too terribly keen on finding out which. He sets his thermos down on the bench, like a makeshift wall between the two of them. 

"If you don't know, I can't tell you." Moss says pompously, while pulling out the sandwich his mother prepared for him the night before. Roy groans and crosses his arms. "Me not knowing should be the exact reason for you to tell me." 

'Flip,' Moss thinks. 'My logic is flawed'. 

Theres a short moment of silence while the two of them mull over the next thing for them to say.

"Do you remember in college, that one professor we had?" Roy asks, still watching Moss' face. He notices, and takes a huge bite of his bologna and cheese sandwich to try to dull the throbbing tention he feels in his forehead. 

"You'll have to be a bit more specific then 'that one professor', Roy." His voice is muffled by his food. He takes another large bite. "We've had many professors."

"I don't remember his name." Roy sighs. "Anyway, that doesnt matter. He was the one that was so vague in every lesson. And after every class you and I would walk out, complaining how we couldn't learn a single thing he was teaching because he never gave any of us straight answers to our questions." Moss notes that Roy is rambling. 

'To do: commemorate later for making Roy babble like an idiot.' 

"Yes. His name was Professor Flanigan. What is your point?" 

Roy groans. Moss takes another huge bite of sandwich. "My point is, Moss, that if you dont tell me why you're pissed then I cant make it up to you." 

He's being genuine, Moss realizes, which Roy is often not.

He shrugs. "We had plans yesterday, or don't you remember?" Roys' face is blank for a moment, but then recognition flashes across it and Moss confirms to himself that he knew Roy forgot. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it. 

"Ah shit Moss, I'm sorry." Moss shoves his thermos deep into his backpack. His throat is closing up and he feels himself favoring flight over fight. 

"What were you doing all day yesterday that you couldn't cancel our plans, Roy." Moss ignores how much he sounds like his mother.

"I met this girl last night-" Moss has already pulled on his backpack and began running. He flipping knew it. He spent all day rutting up against some lady like a mindless animal. 

Moss doesnt turn around the whole time he's running, and by the time he's back at Reynholm Industries, he's out of breath and his chest is heaving. There are tears at the corners of his eyes and he can't tell if it's because of physically exerting his body, or if it's because he's disappointed in Roy. Or maybe just in himself. 

The workers in the lobby all stop to look at him, but Moss doesnt really care or notice. Because Roy is running up to the building as well, even more out of breath than Moss is. 

Moss darts to the elevator and waits anxiously for the door to open. Roy cant see him like this.

The doors ding open, he steps inside, and not a second later, so does Roy. "What was that about Moss?" He presses the blinking basement button and the elevator doors close. 

Moss is seething and shaking and being in a small, confined space with Roy does not help a bit. "You're unbelievable." His voice comes out deeper than he's ever heard it. Roy narrows his eyes, and the elevator begins to move. 

No sooner than it started moving, did it lurch to a stop. For a moment, Moss' annoyance has melted away. Now all he feels is sheer panic as he realizes that the elevator is stuck. 

"Oh this is just perfect." Roy says in annoyance. 

A speaker in the elevator is saying something. Some assurances that help is on its way and to please not panic. Moss cant really hear it over the ringing in his ears. 

His mind is flooded suddenly with all the stories of elevator cords breaking and letting its passengers fall to their demise. Moss reasons with himself. 'We're on the first floor, it won't be a long fall.' Moss then thinks, 'well what if the cables don't snap. What if they're just never rescued?'

Roys hands settle on Moss' shoulders. "Don't freak out, Moss. Someone is going to help us out of here." Moss shakes the hands off his shoulders. "Im not 'freaking out', Roy. I think this is a perfectly reasonable way to react when we're stuck in a small box, presumably until we die of dehydration." 

Roy groans and runs his hands through his hair. Moss is looking at them. "Dont touch me again, by the way." Hes glaring now, arms crossed over his chest. He has to lean his back against the wall because his legs have turned to jelly. It's not that he wants to die angry at Roy, but he doesn't have much of a choice. 

"Look, Moss. I apologized. What else do you want me to do about it?" Moss chuckles to mask the fact that he doesn't have a proper answer. For once in his life, he doesn't know.

'Go back in time and show up to work so we could watch that American movie you promised we would. What was it called? Devil?'

'Go back in time and dont have sex with that lady. Wouldnt you much rather be with me instead?'

'Pry the flipping elevator doors open so I'm not forced to look at you.'

Moss really is speechless. Roy has begun pacing up and down the elevator, like a dog trapped in a cage. Coincidentally, that's exactly how Moss feels. 

"You think we'll die?" To anyone else, it would look like Roy is speaking to the floor. Moss shrugs. 

"Most likely." Roy nods like he has too much energy, and then stops pacing, coincidentally not a foot away from Moss, who's hands are beginning to sweat. Unconsciously, he uncrosses his arms. 

 

In college, Roy and Moss were never invited to parties, despite the fact that just about everyone else was. There were nights where they'd shrug it off and stay in their dorm and play video games together until the sun came up. Other nights, Roy would get pissed that they weren't invited. 

"Who are they to tell us when and where to party?" He would say, sprightly. Moss, young and easily persuaded, always looked up to Roy when he got like that. As if, together, the two of them could do anything.

Those were the nights where they would crash their peers parties, steal large quantities of booze, and go right back to their private dorm. Those were the nights they got so inebriated, Moss hardly remembers Roy tearing the neckties from his collar, the belt from his corduroys. There was always so much kissing, clouded by wine and whiskey. Those were the nights Moss looks back on fondly. 

 

Here they are, two decades later, give or take, doing the same damn thing. But now, there's no liquor. No wild circumstance they can use as an excuse, no police cars. 

Each of Roy's hands are cradling Moss' face, carefully. Moss almost laughs, marvelling at how tentative Roy is being. Instead, he tightens the hands at his sides into fists. 

After a moment, their movements become less rusty, and more natural.

Just when Moss gets his hands moving, and onto the button of Roy's jeans, there's a loud "ahem!" that causes the both of them to freeze. 

In the midst of their frenzy, somehow neither of them noticed the elevator doors being pried open. 

Both of the men see the large crowd, an unwelcome audience, from the corner of their eye. Roy has a look of panic on his face, and he hasn't moved an inch, keeping Moss pinned against the wall. 

Moss, however, looks less than perturbed. "Good gracious me." He gently pushes Roy away, so he can get out of the elevator. He steps around Jen, Douglas, most of the workers from the lobby, and surprisingly even Richmond, without batting an eye. 

As he makes his way to the stairwell he grins. What a fantastic way to get over his fear of elevators.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading whatever this is


End file.
